Duplicity
by Battle On
Summary: The war was over, but the struggle has only just begun. A child betrayed by corruption, a people blinded by their devotion, a force that won't be denied. The Ministry will regret locking up their Savior and the price of innocence will reshape their world.
1. Endure

******Disclaimer:** I do not own the characters mentioned from Harry Potter or any recognizable features from the series, they are property of J.K. Rowling and Warner Brothers.

* * *

**June 19th, 1996**

**Attack at the Ministry**

_Last night a group of students lead by the notorious Harry Potter, the boy-who-lived to tell lies, broke into the Ministry of Magic for reasons currently unknown. Former supporters of He-Who Must-Not-Be-Named are also reported to have been found at the site of the attack. Aurors reported that eleven arrests were made, including The Boy Who Lived. Such charges are as stands; breaking and entering, and destruction of Ministry property. _

_Harry Potter has been separately charged with use of the Imperius Curse, an Unforgivable, and is being held being held by the Ministry until a Mind Healer can attest to his mental state. The other students are said to have come to no further harm and have been safely returned to the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. This reporter has been informed that their names cannot be released at this time, but it is our hope to gain firsthand accounts from said students at a later date._

_This reporter does find it curious that Lord Lucius Malfoy was said to have been seen wandering the Ministry last night, and while members of several families the Malfoy Lord is known to associate with were arrested, the Lord himself was not. It is known that Lord Malfoy and his family were found not guilty of Death Eater activity during the war twenty years ago, having been put under the Imperius Curse. What do you think about ending your article like this "One finds it suspect that both a victim and a user of the Imperius Curse were in the same area that night. Could there be more to this than is known?_

_Dates for the trials of You Know Who's supporters have been set for (Continued on Page 4)._

**November 26th, 2006**

A rattled breath breached the silence of the cell. The breath was exact, planned down the last millisecond of inhale and exhale, just like many a breath before it and all those to come. Harry had perfected his breathing many weeks ago when the fluid had set in. Drawing in just enough air so as not to deprive his body, but making sure he would have to take no extras. Harry knew the dementors would come soon and the practiced ease of breathing would escape him for memories of screams and the feeling a betrayal. Whose betrayal, though, he couldn't remember it anymore, Harry had long ago let the information slip into the vast fog that existed within his mind.

Harry could still recall certain things, vague, but warm memories to get him through the colder days. There was a castle, home, and he lived in a tower. It could almost upturn his lips, the idea of freedom in his castle. Harry had learned long ago, that in here there was no past; the past was pain, so it is better to not acknowledge it. But there was his castle and the lion that protected the tower. He spent his time exploring every inch of the castle and he found three other animals that roamed its corridors.

A badger that acted as his shadow and followed him most places he went, an eagle that kept to the library and a snake most often found in the dungeons. Occasionally the lion and snake would join his wanderings and on these days it was not uncommon for a fight to break out between the two. Harry couldn't understand why the two fought and really did wish the two would get along better, he felt like he belonged as much with one as he did the other.

His lion kept the shadows away; they never could reach him in his tower. The shadows thought they were clever and would try to lure Harry away with promises of friendship and family, but he knew better. He had no friends, not anymore, though he wasn't sure how he knew this exactly. He had learned better than to ponder on it, the fog knew and Harry wanted nothing to do with what was in the fog.

Today, Harry found himself drawn to the entrance, to the ungainly and rotted wooden doors stood steadfast. Harry thought this an unusual combination, but they never changed and they never opened. He supposed it would seem like he was trapped, but he had never had any want to leave the relative safety of his castle.

Until today.

All four animals had gathered with him, as if they also knew something was going to happen. It was getting late though. Soon he would have to leave his castle so that it wouldn't be stolen from him. Harry began to become anxious, he couldn't wait much longer and would have to retreat. What if he missed it though? Could he risk that? Could he risk here? Harry regretfully decided to pull away and returned to his cold cell. Shiver setting in instantaneously.

He could hear them now, in the distance. The distinct bellows of his fellow inmates, the only forewarning before his breath is taken away.

He would get to eat soon.


	2. Excuse

Much thanks to Lotuskiss for the concept of Daphne Greengrass.

As a heads up I will only be updating once a month from now on. I am in paramedic school and much of my next year will be dedicated to that. Constructive criticism is much appreciated.

* * *

**September 18****th****, 1996**

**A Savior's Fall**

_Nearly three months since the trial and imprisonment of the young and troubled Harry Potter, Boy-Who-Lived, and still he is causing problems for our beloved Ministry. In an exclusive interview with the illustrious Minister of Magic himself, Cornelius Fudge, this reporter was informed that Mr. Potter's vaults and assets have been sealed in Gringotts and despite the Minister's valiant efforts to make the goblins see reason, the beasts have yet to concede. _

_Due to the fact that all of the students involved in his madness were minors__,__ much like Mr. Potter himself__,__ parental permission is needed for interviews. Only one such student would come forward. One time best friend of Mr. Potter, Ronald Weasley, with the support of his mother and father after the trials, had this to say. _

"_**Harry always thought himself better than us and everyone turned a blind eye, but I didn't, I saw him for what he was. Like in second year when everyone thought he was the heir of Slytherin, how do we know he wasn't? They say he went and saved my sister, but I say he planned it all himself. Supposedly he was cleared of putting his name in the Goblet of Fire in fourth year, but I say he paid someone to do it. Bloody Boy-Who-Lived has mountains of riches and went and killed another student just to get himself more. Looney he is. Used an Unforgivable on his friends and nearly gets us killed, he belongs in Azkaban, deserves the Kiss I tell you."**_

_His mother, Molly Weasley, went on to add._

"_**To think I treated him as one of my own. Fed that boy and sent him care packages even made him a jumper just like I do my own kids. A shame, a real shame. Wish I had seen it sooner like my Ronnie had**__**.**__**"**_

_Lord Weasley had nothing to add._

_None of the other students involved in that horrifying night would come forward with any more information about what went on that night or even thoughts on Mr. Potter himself. With Hogwarts back in term now though this reporter feels we should only be blessed that they can all return safely to school and try to move on from that night. _

_During the trial against Mr. Potter it was brought to our attention that in his third year of school he helped the renown murderer Sirius Black escape from his own brush with the Kiss. Sirius Black was cleared of all charges days before Mr. Potter's trial in the trial of Peter Petergrew. Unfortunately Lord Black did not live to see his freedom having been struck down by his own cousin Bellatrix Lestrange nee Black. It makes one wonder, did Lord Black know when he rushed to the aid of his godson, Mr. Potter, what his godson was capable of? Would he have still risked his life to save such a deranged young man?_

* * *

**November 26****th****, 2006**

Harry became aware to the clink of metal on metal and the foul scent he had come to recognize as food. In passing, Harry wondered how something so foul in smell could be so lacking in taste. As always the tray appeared in the middle of his cell, edges dulled so as not to allow any respite from the torture provided. He blinked wearily and considered not even bothering trying to force the thick, paste like gruel down his throat, thinking he would conserve energy was the familiar lie, a contemplation Harry had every day, before eventually giving in.

Harry slowly and meticulously unwrapped himself from the tight ball he had tried to become in order to conserve body heat. He allowed his mind to wander as he went through the all too familiar motions before his meal during the cold seasons. Harry soon found himself in his castle, but instead of in his tower where he had always returned to before, Harry instead found himself waiting in front of the doors in the entrance where he had last been. This change in routine startled Harry and he glanced nervously at his surroundings. Only the lion and snake remained, as if they had been waiting for his return, the animosity between them seemingly forgotten as the turned back to watch the doors.

For the first time since Harry had come to visit his castle the gate began to groan and the entire castle began to shake and rumble. Heart racing he watched as the doors started to swing open. Inch by inch they revealed the blinding light behind them. Harry put his arm up to protect his eyes and gasped as a shadowed figure began to emerge from the light. It seemed, in accordance with it pace, to be walking towards the castle. The closer the figure got the more Harry wanted to bolt. Things would change, he knew that now.

Someone was coming. When they were completely inside the castle, safely past the doors, the light was abruptly gone. Almost as if someone had merely flipped a switch. The snake hissed and greeted the newcomer as if they were old friends. The stranger stood a head taller than Harry and had the fairest blonde hair Harry had ever seen. Grey eyes glanced disdainfully all around Harry, clearly displeased, but with what he didn't know. His castle, though bare, was always impeccably clean and warm. The piercing eyes then settled on Harry and he could feel the fog within his mind begin to shift and rock. Harry could feel it straining to keep the thoughts and memories at bay.

A firm, warm hand coiling around his wrist brought Harry back to his cell, the fog once again a strong and steady presence in his mind. Blinking reality back into focus Harry could tell that the offending appendage holding his wrist captive belonged to that of a real, warm blooded being. Said being's magical core thrummed in time with his own, solidifying it's presence within his cell. Bringing up his other hand Harry tentatively brushed his fingertips along the pale knuckles of the hand, finding the dichotomy of skin color and temperature intriguing.

A hum like noise sounded in his cell and the grip on his wrist tightened, pulling his wrist away from his body. Warmth began to spread through Harry, starting with the arm in the grasp of the stranger. He supposed he should be panicking, pulling away, getting a better assessment of the situation he now found himself in, but it had been so long since he had truly been warm. Instead he allowed the lull of sleep, the warmth brought with it, to take him.

* * *

"…_mean this isn't bad…be dead...DON'T CARE WHAT YOU…"_

Harry shuddered away from the raised tone; the voices had been coming and going for a while now. He knew he wasn't awake, but he felt no need to be. It was nice here, serene. Harry vaguely remembered that there had been another presence before he had ended up here, but currently that presence was nowhere to be found. Instead there was dull ache filling him, while the barely recognizable thrum of another presence washed through him. A part of him wanted to struggle, to break free and make all the voices and presences go away, but in the foggy white absence that Harry found himself in, such thoughts faltered and burned out. It disconcerted him how much this place reminded him of a very similar fog that could be found in the recess of him mind, the voices where the only assurance that that was not where he currently resided.

"…_unreasonable to expect any different…accept the way things…leave."_

Harry snapped open his eyes, no longer wanting or even allowing the lethargy to hold him. The ache was beginning to fade; this voice belonged to the presence, the hand, the thrum of life. He began to desperately blink the fog away and willfully thrust himself back into reality.

"_Need to wake up…goddamn reckless lion, naptime is over…"_

Harry felt the ache leave completely and forced his head up, eyes locking with a vaguely familiar grey.

"Ah, better. About time you woke up, Potter."

* * *

Daphne Greengrass was the last person anyone expected to become a healer. Sharp tongued and firm she was not the picture of ideal bedside manner, but she had an unquestionable track record for success even with the most delicate of patients. Which was why when she had been contacted by the Malfoy's about a private contract, to provide for a guest of their estate, at nearly five times her regular pay now, she didn't hesitate to agree. There was the tedious bit of legally binding contracts and a wizard's oath of secrecy that she took quite seriously as a healer anyway.

They money wasn't why she had done it though. Oh no, it was for the shear satisfaction of knowing that it would piss her darling younger sister off to no end. It had been arranged that Astoria would marry Draco the summer after her own graduation from Hogwarts. An amicable compromise was reached by Lord Malfoy and Lord Greengrass on the eve of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's fall that the young heir and the proclaimed pureblood sweetheart would be wed. Fate it seemed had other ideas though for when a mere fortnight before what would have been a wedding to go down in the history books Draco was found with his tongue down a whores throat and dick up said whore's ass. An excusable offense had the whore been female. Surprisingly it has been Daphne's own family that had put the story under wraps and by the week was out the whole incident had been efficiently swept under the rug. Unsurprisingly her family had cut all ties with the Malfoy's and much like she had been told, if she knew what was best for her, she wouldn't associate with them either.

Daphne made no attempt to feel sorry for her sister, she instead felt as if Astoria had dug her own grave in her newfound snotty attitude and gold digging ways. So Daphne snatched up the opportunity to work with her sister's ex-fiancé and gleefully made herself the black sheep of the family. Her mother had proclaimed what a disappointment it was that she would waste her _ethereal _beauty on such a family, that Daphne would demean herself to such levels. Her mother could be so entertaining whilst drunk. Personally she felt she would fit right in amongst the Malfoy's, in both appearance and finesse.

Exactly one month to the day of being hired on by the Lord Malfoy, Daphne encountered her patient. A recent release from one of Azkaban's long term cells, one Harry Potter was brought into Malfoy Manor looking nearly emaciated and breathing roughly, but despite appearances sleeping deeply. Pursing her lips and gripping her wand tightly in hand she swiftly followed Draco through the winding halls of the manor to the family wing and a bedroom specifically set up for Potter's arrival. Not bothering to wait for Draco to situate Potter on the bed she began to cast routine examination charms over the almost alien form, scanning over the parchments for life threatening issues. As with many of the captives of Azkaban, Potter appeared to be malnourished and exceedingly underweight. The pneumonia may have been worrisome should she not have encountered such a similar case before. Gruesome as it may seem, Potter's body would be healed up in only a few short days if the strict potion regimen was followed and she would ensure that it was. Turning, she left the room for the on adjourning it, she had best plan out Potter's regimen now that she knew what she was dealing with.

Unfortunately, healing the physical body tended to be the easiest part of her job. Daphne was no ordinary healer, as if a pureblood would stoop so low. She knew when she had decided to be a healer that she would be the best and by shear will she had accomplished that. Daphne preferred though the complexities of the mind to the body; her real purpose here was to assess Potter's mental state, to determine whether or not the body had been worth saving to begin with.

* * *

Daphne could not believe the nerve. There would be no raised voices around her patient unless it was her own. Potter had been placed, in a no doubt, much needed healing sleep and should have stayed that way for the duration of his initial treatment. Thanks to a certain Longbottom heir, this was no longer the case. She thought it a shame that Gryffindors did not grow out of their loud and boisterous tendencies.

Draco's intake of breath caught Daphne's attention and she watched as the two sets of eyes met.

"Ah, better. About time you woke up, Potter." Draco drawled casually, as if the events that occurred only minutes previously had never been. As if Potter's awakening did not mean as much as it truly well could.

Potter's eyes flashed no sense of recognition when his gaze eventually turned to Daphne's. His once vibrant, emerald green eyes had been dulled out with a sense of ageing and sense of lethargy that should only be found in those far older than Potter.

Draco's eyes narrowed in on Daphne before dismissing her presence completely. He knew waking Harry so soon had been a gamble. Draco had invested much of himself in securing Harry's freedom, as had several others, and to think it all been a waste.

No.

Whether or not Harry was even in there anymore, being able to bring him here, bring him home, was more than worth it. Draco had often agonized over what it must have like for Harry. To be so young and find out he had been nothing more than tool. To have lost his godfather, defeated the madman who had murdered his parents, been betrayed by those he loved most, and then to have been sentenced to a lifetime alone, or worse yet, a lifetime in the clutches of dementors.

Their world had changed since Harry had been sent away. Magical Britain had fallen apart at the seams and really it was of no fault of anyone but its own. A government so corrupt that magic itself had turned its back on its children. Their world had become as dismal and dead as Harry's own life had.

Draco thought it poetic.


	3. Execute

**A/N:** I apologize for being late on updating, school has kept me busy. This chapter is a bit different then the first two, my story has altered its direction a bit. I would love some feedback on Narcissa and Lucius, and the amount of dialogue in this chapter.

* * *

**October 27th, 1997**

**Outbreak on the Rise**

_In recent months a record number of nearly one hundred witches and wizards in Great Britain have come down with various symptoms of illness ranging from fever to rash have visited St. Mungo's for treatment. Nearly seventy-five percent of the cases remain uncured leaving Healers baffled. We are reminded that careful sanitation and extra precautions should be implemented in homes and places of business as a means to hopefully stop or slow down the outbreak of cases._

_The Ministry asks everyone not to panic and has assured us that the problem will be resolved before year's end. Classes will be held twice a week at St. Mungo's on sanitation spells and other helpful tips twice a week for those seeking more information on the subject. The program is being sponsored by the Ministry and to sign up you should visit…_

* * *

**November 28th, 2006**

Narcissa sat poised, gaze unwavering, one hand gently brushing through the untamed and unruly dark hair. She had picked up a routine over the last two days; her mornings began like normal, she would rise just before dawn and sit in front of her boudoir gently pulling her brush through her hair, stroke after stroke, with a practiced ease that had been with her since childhood. When the sufficient number of brush strokes through her hair had been completed her hand guided her brush back to its proper spot and she next reached for an expensive and highly revered facial ointment, an anniversary gift from Lucius, to spread thinly over her face. Her routine continued until the soft ringing of a bell sounded indicating breakfast would be served in ten minutes. She rose and dressed in a gown picked out the night before and walked the short distance to the room their guest slept in. Normally she would take her meal with her with her husband and son in the formal dining room, but for the last two days she had been taking them at Harry's bedside. Draco had realized quickly on the first day of Harry's potion induced rest that his mother was not to be disturbed while she sat by Harry's side in the mornings. A sharp glance in his direction had in all likely hood helped clue Draco in, Narcissa had raised a bright boy after all. Even at twenty-five Draco was still her baby boy. Her heart warmed each time she saw him and despite it all she and Lucius had done right by Draco.

Her hand paused in Harry's hair, her other hand rose to her chest and curled in to a fist; she would need a moment to recompose herself. She could feel a sharp tug from the same place her heart warmed when she looked at Draco. Seeing Harry as he was threatened to make her refined composure slip. In her mind's eye she could picture Draco at all ages of life, short as it may be, some of her favored being from his childhood. How horrific she thought that no one had such memories of Harry, not even the boy himself.

Narcissa resolutely shook her head and took a deep calming breath; this was not the place for such thoughts. As she found her center once again, Narcissa reached over to the bedside table and procured the book sitting there. _The Misfit Grindylow: Mystery of Mermaid Lake,_ a favorite of Draco's when he was first learning to read. Narcissa opened the book to its first page and began reading aloud from the smudge and sometimes faded pages. Each morning she would read a chapter of the storybook to Harry before eating her morning meal. After she had finished and Pico, her personal house elf, had come and collected the dishes, she would sit until lunch and tell Harry stories of Draco's childhood. She joined her husband, son and their healer for lunch and she would not visit Harry again until the following morning.

On the third morning while reading from the children's story book Narcissa paused to turn the page when she saw something out of the corner of her eye. She turned and nearly gasped as she was entranced by emerald green eyes. Harry watched her closely and shied away when she reached out to him. Narcissa studied him for a moment and then resumed her reading. When breakfast appeared she set aside a bit of toast and eggs on the saucer of her teacup and placed the saucer in Harry's lap before consuming her meal. She made no attempt at small talk and only glanced occasionally in his direction, but otherwise left Harry to decide on his own whether to eat or not. As she finished she noticed the toast was gone but eggs appeared untouched. Pico came and collected her dishes and Narcissa settled back in her seat and began telling the story of the time Draco had first ridden on a broom, a proper broom with his father holding on to him tightly. Draco couldn't have been more than three or four at the time and had squealed with delight much to the misfortune of Lucuis' eardrums. Narcissa paused, closing her eyes to relish in the memory of such innocence and freedom.

"My son is a miracle." Narcissa stated her features becoming shadowed, a somber look gracing her face. "I cannot have any more children; the healers were never convinced I would be able to have Draco until his screams filled my birthing chamber."

She turned and gazed directly at Harry, summoning the strength to continue. Harry watched her curiously but in an unobtrusive way, almost as if knowing how important it was to her to finish her story.

"When my mother told me I was to be married to the Malfoy heir I was none too pleased with my parents' decision. They had waited to inform me until the week before my sixteenth birthday. Normally marriage contracts such as these would have been decided around the time of a female child's birth. This had been true up until I was fourteen and Andromeda became disowned by the family for being a blood traitor and running off with her now late husband." Narcissa grimaced at the word husband and looked as if it had given her a bad taste in her mouth to say it. "Originally she had been the one set to marry Lucius, it had been decided by our parents that since Bellatrix was already spoken for, that should the Malfoy's produce a male heir sometime in the five years following Andromeda's birth, she would be betrothed to him.

"Andromeda's actions shamed the Black family's name and cost me my original contract. My mother's hasty disownment was our only saving grace at that time, but it was nearly two years before Abraxas Malfoy agreed to take me in my sister's place. My blood would boil at the thought that I was only a replacement. It hadn't helped knowing my father had favored _Andy_. I had caught him once after she left alone in his study holding what I could only assume was the only picture of her left in the house. He would talk brokenly to the picture of her about how he wished he could convince her to come back and how he'd forgive when our mother would not. I was already a disappointment in that I was the youngest child and a female, my parents had had such hopes I would be their male heir, but never again tried for one after me. Now I would have to live in my sister's shadow in a most horrifying way. All I could rely on was my anger.

"The evening of my sixteenth birthday there was a formal dinner between the families of Malfoy and Black. It had been set up so that Lucius could officially begin the courting process, and given our ages, place my engagement ring on my finger. In eighteen months, just after my graduation from Hogwarts, we would be married. I spent my last year at Hogwarts becoming a very bitter and cold young lady, much in the way my mother was. Our wedding was small and quiet; our families did not want to bring too much attention back to our arrangement. Up to this point Lucius and I had only spoken a handful of times during the proper courting ritual, he graduated a year before me and to follow the ritual he had to take time away from his duties as heir. We only spent the bare minimum amount of time together that was dictated. Our first year of marriage was spent in separate wings of the manor with the exception of those nights Lucius would visit my bed chambers. Once a month without fail Lord Malfoy, Lucius' father Abraxas, would call me into his study and lecture me on my duty to provide a Malfoy heir, he always made sure to point out that I could not afford to be a disappointment in this as well. It was important for me to not let the failure of my blood family spoil the Malfoy name. A new Dark Lord had risen and Lucius was well on his way to being the Dark Lord's close advisor. My hatred and anger would grow with each passing month. Just as I thought I was reaching my boiling point, Abraxas contracted Dragon Pox and passed no more than a week later. Lucius and I, only a little over a year into marriage, were now Lord and Lady Malfoy."

Narcissa took this time to pause and summon Pico, informing her that she would be taking lunch in Harry's room this. Pico was instructed to bring a broth for Harry and to tell Lucius and her son that she would not be joining them until this evening for dinner. She knew both would leave her be and impress upon the Healer and any other guests to do the same. When they were both finished eating, Harry having eaten nearly all the broth, Narcissa summoned Pico to clear their things. Standing, she walked over to the window and gazed out at the manor's flower garden and stables.

"When I started my story, I told you that Draco was a miracle. What I am about to tell you only a handful of other people know, Draco is not one of them. A few months after the death of Abraxas I started feeling ill during the days, usually not long after I woke up. Lucius found out two weeks later when he had come to my rooms to inform me that we would be moving to the new master quarters, he was the one to summon a Healer. The Healer informed us I was pregnant, about nine weeks, and normally this would be cause for great joy, but with the First War and the fact that Lucius and I were still nearly strangers, any celebration was down played. The distance between my husband and I came to an end only a week later." A shudder rippled through Narcissa's body. "I had miscarried my first child.

"Lucius came to me every evening in our quarters as soon as he had returned home. My husband can be a very cold and cruel man, Harry. I'd be the first person to admit to that, but he takes family very seriously. I had become inconsolable after the loss and refused to leave our quarters. No one else had known yet so I spent my days alone, with only the elves as my company until Lucius returned. He was very gentle with me during that time and while the loss of that child is still to this day hard on me it was not all for naught. Lucius began telling me stories about himself and eventually I joined him; slowly we began to heal, but more importantly, we began to fall in love.

"My anger and hate dissipated and I became the epitome of what it is to be a Lady Malfoy. I supported my husband, while never becoming a Death Eater myself. I made sure to always present myself well in public and to follow all the expectations of a pureblood wife. Our life was difficult, but we had our blossoming relationship and love to get us through tough times. A few years later, we knew the war was working towards a climax and had decided that while we were both ready to try for a child again that we would wait until the war had reached its end. Fate, though, had other things in mind. I became pregnant again in the late summer of 1978 and by the time I was in the mid second trimester, Lucius and I were becoming more relaxed about the pregnancy. I followed our Healer's instruction exactly and even though Lucius was being stressed by the war, he still made time for me. We officially announced the pregnancy at my second semester mark and received congratulations and warm wishes from pureblood families throughout the country and even beyond. Of course many some questioned our actions, seeing as how close we were to the war, but others saw this as a good omen for our side.

"Mid December, at the beginning of my third trimester, Lucius was out on a raid and had been gone for a few weeks already. I was preparing for Yule and planning a feast for our families, all the while hoping he would be home in time for holiday. Later in the day it occurred to me that the baby seemed to be less active that day. I sent for our Healer, but nearly a day passed and still I had no reply. The baby had not moved for a notable amount of time and in a fit of panic I rushed to St. Mungo's. I was seen to immediately and when they asked if my husband was around to consult with, I knew. I had failed to carry to term again, but this time the information was leaked. Not only was I a failure to my husband and a disgrace to my line, but everyone knew. Well, not everyone I suppose, when Lucius came home days later to a cold, dark, closed off manor, he hadn't known yet. I secluded myself away in my old wing in fear of my husband's return, not wanting to have to face his hatred at my failure or my sure abandonment.

"Pico came to me four hours after his return and informed me that I was being summoned to the master study. Reluctantly I pulled myself together and put on a brave face, I was a pureblood Lady and I would face my husband with whatever dignity I had left."

_Hands clenched, her nails digging into her palms, Narcissa narrowed her eyes as she turned the corner to the hall that housed the master study. The double doors were closed, like a barrier between her past and her future. What happened when she passed through those doors would determine everything. She took one last deep, calming breath, raised her right hand and knocked. _

_The door clicked open a moment later and she showed herself in, she would swear to this day that the door seemed to make an ominous creek. Lucius was seated in front of the fire, a pensive look on his face. The light from the flames accentuated the sharp lines and angles of his face and he did not turn at her entrance. Seconds felt like minutes and minutes like hours. She would not give in, she would not break. _

"_Tell me wife, why I must send a house elf to summon you to my side. Tell me why you refused to come freely."_

_There were no emotions in his voice and it was spoken only just above a whisper. His head turned towards her, and he met her eyes._

"_Forgive me husband, but I have failed you."_

_Her voice threatened to quiver, she fought to remain passive and keep strong. Lucius looked down her body and stopped when he reached the obvious lack of protrusion from her stomach._

"_I see." He closed his eyes for a brief moment and then he stood and began to walk towards her, only to stop a quill's length from her. "I will not lie and say I am not disappointed by this Narcissa and know that should you ever hide from me again the punishment shall be severe, but I believe this is the Fates way of saying we are not ready yet my flower."_

"The night of Yule, our home was invaded by Aurors. We were attacked for allegedly housing dark artifacts, and I ended up bed ridden for a month. I began to believe Lucius then, that the Fates were looking out for us, and that our baby never had to suffer a cruel and painful death at the hands those whom proclaim themselves of the Light. The only part of the attack that I can look back on and be grateful for was that my mother never talked to me again after I lost the baby. In her mind I was as much a disgrace as Andromeda. She died not six months later.

"Right after my mother's death I became pregnant again. It was a hard pregnancy and I spent so much of it in a bed that I had taken to writing out ideas and making plans of the best way to kill my husband and get away with it. Lucius did not go out on any missions during that time and eventually had to take my wand from me as I had started to throw hexes at him any time he attempted to enter my chambers. He would get this look on his face though, a certain glint in his eyes, and would tell me every morning that this would be the one. This one would be our heir. He was almost wrong. He nearly lost both of us during the birth; the healers had told us repeatedly to terminate the pregnancy because otherwise it was a death wish. I am told that more time was spent saving the baby and I, than the actual time I spent in labor. My baby was a fighter though, and his screams were said to have brought me back from the brink. He still is a fighter, my baby dragon."

Narcissa gazed at Harry's face and noticed how his features seemed relaxed, eyes beginning to droop. This time as she reached out to stroke his hair, he did not flinch and even started leaning into the touch. His eyes closing for longer periods each time he blinked.

"About a year after you were imprisoned, Harry, people started getting sick." Harry kept his eyes open and clear as he listened. "They would be like that for a long period of time with seemingly no cure. Some would live and some would die. I have come to look at that time as if something had been judging us. That's not to say innocent people didn't die, but it reminded me of the wars, in that there were causalities on both sides before it was over. Draco was one of the ones who fell ill. My baby would just lie there in suffering and I didn't know if he would make it. I would hate myself for wanting him to hold on towards the end, when the sickness was at its worst. Severus had thrown himself into finding a cure and Lucius would hole himself up in his study in the beginning, as if he couldn't face it, but he relented in the end and held vigil by my side. The plague was a terrible thing Harry and I still struggle to come to terms with all that has happened since that time, but I think we needed it. As a people, I mean. We needed to be judged."

* * *

Harry stared out at the night sky from his bed; he had liked the woman who had visited him today. She talked to him the whole day and shared her food with him. What she had said sounded important, but Harry didn't understand who she was talking about. There was only him and her here in his castle.


End file.
